


In Clothes a Wantonness

by McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 16:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10994826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: When the Ministry refuse to believe he acted as a spy during the war, Remus Lupin is forced into hiding, choosing to spend his exile performing in a Muggle drag club while he searches for the one person who can provide evidence of his innocence: Severus Snape.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2006.

It wasn't a bad life, Remus thought as he sat in front of the lighted looking glass and sponged on pancake makeup. It was just so far removed from what he hoped his life would be like that it made him wonder sometimes if the gods or Fate or whoever was in charge of this sort of thing had made a mistake, and somewhere along the line, Remus' life had got accidentally switched up with someone else's. 

In _his_ version, he was living in a small Wizarding village in a cottage with stone walls, a thatched roof, and a flourishing garden, complete with ivy or climber roses growing up the wall and framing the front door, which was made of wood and painted yellow with a large brass knocker in the shape of a gargoyle or perhaps a wolf. It was a small but snug cottage, room enough for himself and Tonks and their firstborn child, who romped on the fresh green grass in summertime. It was a normal cottage in a normal village with a normal family living a normal life in it. 

That was his fantasy, but he supposed that at nearly forty years of age, he ought to know better than to think anything about his life would ever be normal.

"Five minutes, Rob." Nigel patted Remus' shoulder as he passed behind Remus' chair, and Remus nodded an acknowledgment. 

The five-minute warning was a formality for anyone performing after the club's headliner act. Starrina milked the audience for applause and at least one encore, which meant Remus had ten, possibly fifteen minutes before he would go on. 

But as little as he liked or wanted this job, he took it seriously, since his former colleagues had gone to a lot of trouble to arrange it for him. In five minutes, he was waiting in the wings with the rest of his act, ready to go on as soon as Starrina had finished chewing the scenery to her satisfaction. Remus watched dispassionately as she launched into her encore, a soulful rendition of "I've Never Been to Me". She was the only one of them who didn't lip-sync, and Remus, who remembered when the song had been popular in the Seventies, was amazed that she had somehow managed to top the painful earnestness of the original. 

Beside him, Nigel heaved a dramatic sigh. "You know what this is about, don't you?" 

Remus shook his head; backstage gossip wasn't of much interest to him. 

"Her boyfriend dumped her." Nigel glanced at Starrina with pity in his eyes, but his tone was derisive. "We're in for at least two weeks of tragedy unless she finds someone else." 

Remus chuckled, but before he could reply, Starrina left the stage, blowing kisses. "Good evening, Miss Starrina," he said politely. One of the first lessons he'd learnt was that the diva didn't like being addressed by her real name - which was Barry - while she was in costume. 

Starrina swept past them with her nose in the air, ignoring his greeting. 

"Bitch," Nigel muttered, glaring at her retreating back, but Remus merely shrugged. He'd been on the receiving end of worse over the years. "Fuck me if I'll tell her the next time she misses a spot on that fur rug she calls a back." 

"Now, Nigel," Remus chastised mildly. 

"Now, Roberta." Nigel mimicked, even as he reached out to give Remus' wig a tweak to straighten it. "You're too bloody nice for your own good. You'll never advance 'round here like that." 

"I don't want to advance." Remus hitched up his short, sequined skirt to check the seams on his stockings. The emcee would be calling them as soon as Starrina's set was cleared away and theirs was brought on. "I'm happy where I am." 

"What an odd little duck you are." Nigel gazed at him speculatively. "You're the only one who's happier in the chorus than in the spotlight." 

"I don't want a lot of attention," Remus said, and it was nothing but the simple truth. In his position, he couldn't afford to draw attention to himself and risk being thrown back in prison - or worse. 

"Oh, that would be why you never take off your wig and make-up in public, then. You don't want to draw attention to yourself." Nigel nudged him playfully. 

Remus smiled and shrugged. "I'm more comfortable this way. I'd rather not show my real face." 

"Some of us wouldn't mind seeing it." Nigel's voice was suddenly quiet, and Remus felt Nigel's hand resting lightly at the small of his back. 

It was tempting to relax against Nigel and accept the unspoken invitation. Although he had loved Tonks and had planned a life with her, he wasn't inexperienced with men, and it had been a long time since he had enjoyed the comfort of another person's embrace. But now more than ever, he knew he had to hold himself apart from those around him. He had an even bigger secret than his lycanthropy, one that could cost his very life if it came out. 

He glanced over at Nigel and smiled ruefully. "Sorry, love. I make it a policy never to mix business with pleasure." 

"Well, I had to try." Nigel winked and patted his arse, and Remus offered a wider smile as they answered the emcee's summons and filed on-stage to perform their number, a choreographed routine to Tom Jones' "Chills and Fever", pleased that Nigel wasn't inclined to take offense at the rejection. 

After the show, Remus was the last one out of the dressing room, as usual. He wasn't high enough on the billing to rate his own room, and he sat and dawdled over taking off his costume and stage make-up until the others had changed and gone so no one could get a clear look at his face and real hair color. 

He scrubbed off the heavy pancake make-up and glittery eye shadow and peeled off the sparkling faux stick-on gems they all used as beauty marks, and he replaced it with a lighter covering of cosmetics. He took off his blonde wig with its cascade of tight curls and placed it carefully on the styrofoam bust, and he replaced it with a less teased and flashy wig, one that was brunette rather than blonde. It hung sleek and straight just past his shoulders, and he brushed it and tied it back with a simple clip at the nape of his neck. 

His sequined outfit was treated with care as well; their pay was docked if their costumes were damaged through careless handling. He hung it on the rack and fetched his own clothes: a plain blue wool dress, a plain navy blue cardigan, and sensible shoes since it was a long walk back to his flat, and he refused to waste money on a taxi. While he didn't have to worry about money as much as he used to now that he was earning a steady wage, frugality was a hard habit to break. 

With darker hair and colored contact lenses that changed his blue eyes to brown, he looked much less like himself, and with the make-up and the dress on, he doubted his own mother would recognize him, which was, he supposed, the entire point. At first, it had been jarring to gaze into the looking glass and see this strange person staring back at him, but he had grown accustomed to the sight of his new self. Robert Lewis, also known as Rob and sometimes Roberta, and when he was on stage, Gigi St. Cloud. 

He turned off the lights on the looking glass and rose from his chair, reaching for his courier bag; he accepted his new life style out of necessity, but he drew the line at carrying a purse. He wanted a nice, long soak in a hot bath, a glass of wine, and music that wasn't Disco. 

The door creaked open, and Remus glanced up, curious but not alarmed, thinking it was one of his fellow performers come back to fetch something that had been left behind, but he froze when he saw the robed figure standing in the doorway. The figure, whose face was obscured by a hood, stepped into the dressing room and closed the door, and then it glided forward, reaching into its sleeve to draw its wand. 

_Oh, bugger_ , Remus thought, backing up and putting a chair between them, as if that would help. He was trapped in the room with a Wizard, there were no other exits than the one the Wizard was standing in front of, and the Ministry had broken Remus' wand when he had been imprisoned along with Greyback and the rest of werewolves who had served Voldemort. 

"Good evening, Mr. Lupin." The stranger held his - for Remus was certain by the stranger's height and deep voice, it was a Wizard rather than a Witch confronting him - wand up, at the ready in one gloved hand, but it wasn't aimed directly at Remus. 

"Sorry." Remus lifted his chin and fixed the stranger with a cool gaze, hoping to bluff his way out of the situation. "There's no one here by that name." 

"Don't bother lying. You are Remus John Lupin, a werewolf and a former member of the Order of the Phoenix," the stranger said brusquely. "I have no desire to play games, nor do I wish to harm you. I have questions, and I want answers." 

Remus regarded the stranger warily, drawing his courier bag in front of him as if to shield himself. "You have me at a disadvantage," he said. "You know who I am, but I don't know who you are." 

"It is none of your concern. Will you answer my questions or not?"

"Why should I?" 

"Because I have information regarding the whereabouts of Severus Snape." 

Remus' eyes widened, and his heart surged within his chest, although he scarcely dared hope this stranger was telling the truth. "Severus is dead," he said, although his voice betrayed his uncertainty. 

"The Ministry have declared him missing and presumed dead. However, I can assure you that he is alive and well." 

Remus swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. If this was true... if he could find Severus and convince him to return, if only just long enough to testify on Remus' behalf, then perhaps Remus could stop hiding and return to his old life. "What are your questions?" 

The stranger chuckled, a low sound filled with mocking amusement. "First, I want to know how you ended up here, performing in a drag show of all places." 

"It was a choice made of necessity," Remus replied, trying to sound quiet and dignified even though he could feel his face growing hot. "I'm a wanted criminal, charged with treason, and if the Ministry find me, I'll be sent to prison if I'm lucky, executed if I'm not." 

"What happened?" The stranger lowered his wand and moved closer. "Did your friends in the Order throw you to the wolves?" He paused, and the amusement was back in his voice as he added, "So to speak." 

"No, they tried to help me, but the Death Eaters and the other werewolves lied," Remus said, unable to keep bitterness from lacing his voice. "They swore I was loyal to Voldemort all along. The Ministry wouldn't accept anything Minerva, Moody, Arthur, Tonks or anyone else had to say, and there was no concrete evidence to prove my innocence. Albus left behind enough proof to clear Severus' name, but I suppose the Ministry were so put out at being forced to pardon him, they wouldn't accept the fact that I was a spy too." 

Remus lowered his bag and leaned heavily against the back of the chair in front of him. Dredging all this up again brought back memories of his time in prison, where his life had been in danger from the other werewolves, who wanted him dead for betraying Greyback, and the Death Eaters, who wanted him dead for betraying Voldemort. The conditions in Azkaban were no worse than living in the caves with the werewolves, and now that the Ministry knew Dementors could no longer be trusted, there were human guards instead. But it had still been a hellish time, and Remus had been convinced he wouldn't live long enough to stand trial thanks to his fellow inmates. 

"Yet here you are," the stranger said. "Neither imprisoned nor dead." 

"Friends helped me escape," he replied, refusing to name Moody, Tonks and Kingsley in case this stranger intended to see them prosecuted. The thought had occurred to Remus that this was someone from the Ministry who had somehow managed to track him down, and he didn't want to risk trouble for them. "They took Polyjuice Potion and lied to the guards, claiming they were taking me in for questioning." That much, he knew, was a matter of public record, and so he didn't have any qualms about revealing it. The Ministry still hadn't figured out who the impostor Aurors were, however. "Then they took me somewhere secure until we could figure out a long-term plan." 

" _This_ is your long-term plan?" The stranger swept his hand up and down, his tone scornful. "Why didn't you just leave the country?" 

"Because I still had hope." Remus curled his fingers around the cool metal of the chair back, gripping it tightly. "They would accept that I was a spy if I could prove it - if I could find Severus and get him to corroborate my story. They assumed I wouldn't be able to because he was presumed dead. But Severus' body was never found. With anyone else, I'd give it up as a lost cause, but not with him. He's resourceful, and he's a survivor. I don't believe he's dead. I want to remain here in hopes that news of him will turn up. Perhaps I have a chance of convincing him to testify on my behalf, slim hope as it might be." 

He turned his gaze to the worn vinyl seat, studying the cracks in it. "Besides, the Ministry confiscated everything I had. It wasn't much, but it's all gone, and I've had to start over. I can't afford to up and leave. Not yet." 

"And so you masquerade as a woman in a Muggle drag show." 

"It's better than prison," Remus said, lifting his chin again. "It's far better than being executed. I had to disguise myself thoroughly enough that no one could recognize me, and I can't afford to take Polyjuice." A small, wry smile quirked his lips. "You must admit, no one would think to look for me here." 

The stranger let out a sharp bark of laughter and tucked his wand away, and Remus breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "You're right about that." 

"Although you found me," Remus noted, cocking his head and fixing the stranger with a questioning look. "Might I ask how?" 

"I took Polyjuice to make myself look like Potter, slipped Veritaserum into Molly Weasley's tea, and then I Obliviated her when I obtained the information I needed." 

Remus' eyes grew wide and round, a hundred thoughts swirling in his mind. That plan, those potions... only one person he knew could do such a thing and speak of it with such offhand matter-of-factness...

The stranger lifted both hands, pushing back the hood of his cloak - and Remus found himself staring at Severus Snape. 

"Congratulations," Severus drawled, folding his arms and giving Remus a sardonic look. "You were right." 

"But - why?" Remus gazed at him in astonishment. He had hoped to find Severus, but he had thought it would be an intensive search; never had he expected Severus would come to him. 

"Why what?" Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "Why am I alive? Why did I leave? Why did I come back? Why am I here?"

"Why did you come and find me?" 

Severus peeled off his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. "Word reached my ears that people were looking for me. I wanted to know why. I began tracing the rumors and reports back, and they all led straight to you." Smirking, he sauntered toward Remus and stopped just short of the chair Remus had kept between them. "So. You wanted to find me. Here I am. The question is, why should I help you? There's nothing in our past that gives me any motivation to help you now." 

"I'll do anything," Remus blurted, knowing he was giving away just how desperate he was, but he didn't care. He didn't want to continue living this way, and he would humble himself as much as Severus wanted if it meant gaining his freedom. "Anything you want." 

"Really." In a sudden, swift motion, Severus grabbed the chair and flung it aside, and he shoved Remus back against the vanity. "Anything?" he breathed, grinding his hips against Remus as he reached down to yank up the hem of Remus' dress. 

Remus froze for an instant, shocked by the unexpected move, but he shook it off quickly and wound his arms around Severus' neck, rocking against Severus in return. He didn't desire Severus, but neither did he find Severus repulsive. Even if he had, he would have found some way to get through the act, but the feel of Severus' fingers stroking his bare thigh above his stocking made him shiver pleasurably, and after being celibate for so long, he didn't think it would be a difficult matter for him to muster some measure of desire. 

But just as suddenly as the sensual assault had begun, it ended, and Severus stepped back, regarding him with amused disbelief. "You really would do anything." 

Remus felt his face growing hot again, and he let go of Severus, smoothing his skirt and wrapping his arms around his midsection. "Yes," he said, refusing to be ashamed. "I want my life back, and I'll do anything to get it." 

"Very well." The words were promising, but the silken purr made Remus wary of what was to follow. "I believe we can reach an accord." 

"Is sex what you want, then?" 

"No. If I want a whore, I can find one anywhere." Severus peered down his nose at Remus, derision in his eyes, and Remus forced himself not to look away. "No, I want two things," he continued, moving away from Remus and sorting through the assortment of cosmetics littering the top of Remus' vanity space, his lip curling. "First, you will live with me as my servant for the period of one month, and you will continue wearing your female garb at all times, even at night in bed. You will continue working here as well, of course." 

He opened a jar of cold cream and dabbed some on his finger, sniffing it and rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, and he sneered as he put the jar aside again as if unimpressed by the product. "Second, you will prepare to perform a solo act here at the end of your month's servitude."

"What?" Remus stared at him, stunned. "But-"

Severus held up one hand, cutting him off. "I will make all the arrangements, and you will do it. You will not lip-sync either." 

Remus swallowed, uncertain which made him more apprehensive: the thought of performing on-stage on his own, or the thought of Starrina's reaction when she found out that he would be singing himself, like she did. "You're assuming I can sing decently," he said, trying to bluff his way out of it. 

"I know you can." Severus turned to him, watching him with an inscrutable expression that gave away nothing. "I've heard you." 

Taken aback, Remus searched his memory for any time Severus might have heard him sing, but he could think of nothing. "When?" he asked at last, curiosity getting the better of him. 

"Sixth year," Severus replied promptly. "You were in the garden just beyond the greenhouses without Potter, Black and Pettigrew for once. You were lying on your stomach on that old stone bench, the one with the faded runes carved on it. You had your bare feet in the air and a cigarette between your fingers, and you were singing." He closed his eyes briefly, as if searching his memory. "'Son, now here's some little something. He stuck them on my wall, and now my nights ain't quite so lonely. In fact I, I don't feel bad at all'. Something like that." 

Remus nodded, remembering the song if not the particular moment Severus was describing. He did remember going off alone to that particular spot when he wanted some privacy and a smoke, and he wasn't surprised at having been caught singing. He had enjoyed singing when he was young, before the weight of loss had stilled his voice. 

"You will sing again, and you will spend the next month learning to be a decent drag queen with better clothes and cosmetics," Severus continued. His lips curved in a wicked smirk as he added, "And you will serve me." 

Remus drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Severus didn't want sex, and Remus wasn't too proud to fetch, carry and clean for Severus for a month. He had a feeling his life at the club would be a living hell once Starrina found out about his solo act, but once it was over, he could quit, return to his own life, and put all this behind him. 

"Fine," he said evenly, and he held out his hand. "I agree." 

Severus clasped his hand and shook it, but he released it quickly as if not wanting to prolong the contact. "Pack your things tonight," he instructed, fishing a piece of parchment out of his pocket and giving it to Remus. "In the morning, come to this address." 

Remus took the paper and glanced at it, noting the address was in a respectable section of London - not posh by any means, but still a far cry from the industrial gloom and squalor of Spinner's End. "You've done well since the end of the war, I take it." 

"I have, yes." Severus smoothed his hands down the front of his robes and tugged at his sleeves, straightening them, his tone insouciant. "Getting away from here was the best decision I ever made." He fixed Remus with a searching look. "I wonder why you're so bent on staying. Your little girlfriend, I suppose," he added with a sneer. 

"Tonks and I broke up," Remus said quietly, feeling a little stab in his gut as he always did when he thought of her. "I didn't know if I would ever be free to return to the Wizarding world, and it wasn't fair to keep her chained to a fugitive. We couldn't have seen each other often, and doing so would have endangered my cover. We thought it best to end things." 

It had been a difficult decision, one neither of them had wanted to make, but in the end, they had made it. They had known it was the best and wisest thing for both of them, and Tonks hadn't wanted to risk Remus' safety for a few stolen moments here and there. 

"But you hope she's waiting for you," Severus said shrewdly, and Remus glanced down, unsettled by the insight. "You hope once you have your freedom, you can pick up where you left off, like nothing has changed." 

"I didn't ask her to wait for me," he said, but Severus' expression made it clear Remus wasn't fooling anyone with the evasion. 

"Of course you didn't." Severus' voice dripped with scorn. "You said all the right things, but deep down, you hoped she would wait. That's why you don't want to leave. You want everything back just like it was. The world doesn't work that way, Lupin." Severus' features hardened and turned cold. "How long has it been since you've seen her - six months? Longer? You're a fool if you think your so-called friends haven't gone on with their lives quite happily without you. Oh, they may spare a thought for poor Remus Lupin once in a while, but their lives are moving forward while you sit and stagnate here because of some stupid, misguided hope that you can recapture what's lost and gone forever." 

Gritting his teeth, Remus turned away, not wanting to hear Severus' words. They cut too deep and true. "Tomorrow morning," he said curtly. 

Severus gave a mirthless chuckle. "Dismissing me, are you?" he asked, his thin lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "Tonight, I will allow it. Tomorrow, however, you will belong to me, and such insolence will not go unpunished." 

Remus said nothing, merely bowed his head and closed his eyes, keeping his back to Severus. After a moment, he heard retreating footsteps, heard the door open and close, and he was alone once more. 

Freedom was within his grasp for the first time in months, but he wasn't hopeful or exultant as he thought he ought to be. Victory, he found, tasted a lot like ashes.

* * *

Remus arrived at Severus' flat bright and early the next morning after a sleepless night spent wondering what exactly he'd got himself into. He felt almost as if he had sold his soul, and while he'd been certain before his conversation with Severus that any price would be worth paying in return for his freedom, he wasn't quite so certain now. 

He wasn't concerned about his safety. Severus had taught for years and had never physically harmed a student; emotional and mental scarring was another matter entirely. If he had intended to harm Remus, it seemed unlikely he would go to the trouble to arrange for Remus to perform a solo act. No, Remus assumed mental and emotional humiliation were what Severus had in mind. Likely, he was gleeful at the opportunity to control the last living Marauder, and he would milk it for all it was worth. Remus wouldn't be surprised if the bootlicking Severus required would be literal as well as figurative. 

But he had agreed, and it would only be for one month. At the end of that time, Severus would give his testimony on Remus' behalf to the Ministry, Remus would be exonerated, Severus could go back to wherever it was he'd come from, and Remus could have his life back. _All's well that ends well_ , Remus thought. He suspected that would be his mantra for the next four long weeks. 

Severus answered the door quickly after Remus knocked, and Remus was surprised to see him still wearing his dressing gown; he had expected Severus to be suited up in his usual armor of thick layers of clothes with endless rows of buttons. Although the silk dressing gown did billow in his wake just as his robes had done, Remus noted with amusement as he followed Severus inside, removing his coat and scarf along the way. 

The room Severus showed him to was small, obviously a guest bedroom, which was a relief. Remus had wondered if perhaps Severus would insist on sex after all since Remus had made it clear he was willing. But he wasn't keen on being treated like a whore, and Severus' insulting dismissal had made Remus far more disinterested in sex being part of his payment. 

There was a narrow bed, a wardrobe, and a vanity with a lighted looking glass; the vanity was littered with what appeared to be cosmetics, but a glance at the bottles and jars told Remus they hadn't come from any Muggle store. They weren't even labeled, and Remus wondered where Severus had got them. The room was devoid of any decorations to make it personal or look like home, but whether that was a statement about Remus' lowly status as Severus' servant, or merely Severus' insouciance regarding interior design, he wasn't certain. 

"You can unpack later," Severus announced when they entered the room, and he turned to face Remus, his fists braced on his narrow hips. "Right now, I want you to strip down to your underpants." 

Remus tried very hard not to gape at Severus, but he failed. "You want me to..." 

"Strip." Severus snapped his fingers impatiently. "I want to see what I have to work with. I can already tell short skirts are out of the question. Your thighs are entirely too thick for what you were wearing on-stage last night."

"I am _not_ fat!" Remus exclaimed, drawing himself up proudly. 

"I didn't say you were fat. I said you have thick thighs." Severus gave him a look that implied Severus thought he was being particularly dimwitted. "You work out, don't you." 

It wasn't a question, but Remus nodded anyway as he levitated his luggage out of the way beside the wardrobe and slipped off his sensible shoes. 

"I can tell." Severus moved to stand in front of him and poked his bicep. "You're too bulked up," he said, radiating disapproval. 

"Everyone works out," Remus mumbled, unbuttoning his cardigan and tossing it onto the bed. "And Nigel helped me get a membership." 

"If everyone dressed up as Judy Garland and put on a water ballet in the Thames in the middle of January, would you do it too? You needn't answer that," Severus added nastily. "I can tell you're as much of a follower as you ever were." 

Remus bit back a retort, not wanting to antagonize Severus on his first day. It was nothing new anyway, just the same old song and dance they had always performed together. Remus knew nothing he said would convince Severus that he was anything but a spineless rug who allowed other people to leave mud tracks all over him while he smiled and meekly thanked them for the privilege. 

Which was perhaps a little more accurate regarding certain times of his life than he cared to admit. 

Instead, he continued to undress, reaching back awkwardly to unzip his dress and letting it fly the distance to join his cardigan on the bed. Underneath, he was wearing a garter belt and stockings and a pair of plain white knickers. In his own time, he refused to wear anything frilly or flashy, and now he felt like someone's Gran thanks to Severus' critical eye. 

"As I suspected," Severus said as he circled Remus slowly. "You need to cut back on your upper body work. You look more like a contestant in a body builder competition than a drag queen." He shook his head as if in disapproval. "Your arms are far too big for a sleeveless gown. You'd look ridiculous, like a caveman in a dress. The only good thing..."

Severus drew his forefinger lightly across Remus' pectorals, and Remus started at the unexpected touch. "With the right neckline, you could appear to have cleavage," Severus said, ignoring Remus' flinch. "But you look far too butch to pull off drag, unless you want to look like a walking parody." 

"I suppose you know all about it?" Remus couldn't hold back a retort this time, annoyed by Severus lecturing him on a lifestyle he'd lived for months. "Nigel thinks I look good." 

"Doubtless Nigel just wants to get your knickers down," Severus replied with a curl of his lip. "As far as what I know on the subject, watch and learn." 

On that cryptic note, Severus pivoted and swept out of the room, leaving Remus alone to watch him go. Remus stood still for a moment, waiting, wondering if he could get dressed again, and after a minute or two passed with no sign of Severus returning, he opened his luggage and pulled out his dressing gown, shrugging into it before beginning to unpack the rest of his things. 

He was nearly finished hanging up his dresses and skirts and was about to move on to shaking the wrinkles out of his blouses when he heard a muffled noise from his courier bag. His mobile was ringing, and he dove for his bag and scrambled through its contents. 

"Hello?" He answered breathlessly, hoping whoever was calling him hadn't hung up. 

"Oh, my _God_ , you _bitch_!" Nigel's voice rang out, loud and strong, and Remus held the phone away from his ear before Nigel could pierce his eardrum. "Playing coy last night when you've been plotting to overthrow Miss Diva! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Overthrow...?" Remus frowned as he settled cross-legged on the floor, bewildered by Nigel's accusation. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you taking the stage and singing live, cupcake. Starrina knows, and she isn't happy." Nigel's voice was filled with evil glee. 

_Oh, God..._ Remus dropped his head in his hand. He hadn't expected Severus to make whatever arrangements were necessary so soon. He had, in fact, hoped for some time to wheedle Severus out of the notion entirely, but that was out of the question now. 

"Rumor has it you've got yourself a sugar daddy who's making all this happen," Nigel continued. "Cross my heart, it won't go any further, but I've _got_ to know. Is it true?" 

Remus waged an internal debate on how to answer. He knew however he answered, everyone at the club would know by the time the first act went on-stage that night no matter what promises Nigel made not to tell. If he refused to answer, then speculation would run rampant, and no doubt whatever the gossips came up with, it would be even worse than the idea of Gigi St. Cloud having a sugar daddy who pulled strings on her behalf. 

"Yes," he said decisively. Somehow, he doubted Severus would be thrilled to be identified as Remus' "sugar daddy", but he didn't care. This whole thing was Severus' idea anyway, so he could just deal with the fallout. "He thinks I'm wasting my talent, so he arranged this as a surprise for me." 

"Well, that's what I've been saying," Nigel replied. "You shouldn't hide your light under a bushel, or your fabulous body under some shapeless sack." 

"He also thinks I'm too butch." 

" _What_?" Nigel's voice rose to an outraged squawk. "Has the bitch seen you naked? You're gorgeous, Roberta, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, no matter what he's doing for - or to - you." 

Remus was about to offer thanks for Nigel's support when suddenly Severus appeared in the doorway, and the mobile nearly slipped from Remus' fingers as he stared at the sight before him. 

"Nigel, I've got to go..." 

"What, Daddy's calling?" He could hear the smirk in Nigel's voice. "Fine, run along, princess. Just don't forget, this lowly stepsister wants all the details tonight." 

"Right. Bye..." Remus closed the phone and tossed it back into his bag, still staring at Severus. 

Severus, who was wearing a sheath dress with a slit up the side that offered a hint of one long, slender leg. Severus' face was made up with a subtle artistry that spoke of skill and long practice, and his hair was swept up into a sleek chignon with a few stray tendrils falling around his face and neck, emphasizing the length of his throat. 

With a sultry sway in his hips, Severus sauntered into the room and then turned a slow circle, giving Remus a good look at the plunging back of his dress that left him bare nearly to the base of his spine. Remus could practically count every vertebrae, and he felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run his tongue up that smooth expanse of skin. 

"Still wondering what I know on the subject?" Severus asked, arching one eyebrow, and Remus swallowed hard. 

"My God... Severus... I never imagined..." 

"You think you're the only one who's had a need for disguises?" Severus sounded amused rather than annoyed as he approached Remus. 

He lifted one foot and rested it on Remus' shoulder, and Remus could feel the stiletto heel digging into his chest. The skirt of Severus' gown fell away, baring his leg, and Remus dragged his gaze slowly along the length of it, noting how the heels brought out the shape of Severus' calf and how smooth and tempting his bare leg seemed. Remus wanted to touch, but he suspected he would draw back a bloody stump if he did. 

Severus gave Remus' shoulder a shove with his foot, his expression contemptuous, before he stepped back, gazing down at Remus with haughty disdain.

"Suffice to say, I know whereof I speak, and you will listen to me in all things for the next month," he said coldly. "Now get dressed. You have work to do. Today, I want you to clean the kitchen from top to bottom." With that, he turned to leave.

"What, no French maid's outfit?" The words were out of Remus' mouth before he could stop them, but Severus merely glanced at Remus over his shoulder, his expression daring Remus to challenge him further. 

"It isn't out of the question yet." 

As soon as Severus was out the door, Remus groaned and stretched out on the floor, one arm thrown across his face as he tried to process everything he had seen and heard in the last hour.

One day begun. Thirty more to go. It was going to be a long month indeed.

* * *

Remus sat still, resisting the urge to squirm while Severus painstakingly outlined his eyes with black eyeliner. He'd been sitting on a tall stool all morning, and his arse was getting numb, which made sitting still difficult, but Severus glared at him and smacked him if he moved. 

The tall stool was to elevate Remus so that Severus didn't have to stoop while he worked. "I'm not going to throw my back out for your sake," were Severus' exact words. But for all of Severus' threats and smacking, Remus wasn't terribly worried. After a week of being Severus' house boy, Remus had learnt that whatever Severus' true motives for this whole situation were, making Remus miserable wasn't among them. 

True, he did require Remus to clean the entire flat and expected Remus to meet his exacting standards, but he wasn't unreasonable about it, at least not in comparison to what Remus had feared. Remus wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been handed a toothbrush and told to scrub the place from top to bottom with it. But the demands Severus made on him weren't outrageous, and Severus treated him well. Even if Remus sometimes wondered if Severus saw him as a person at all, or if he viewed Remus as nothing more than a convenient mannequin to practice on. 

Indeed, Remus was starting to think the housecleaning part was just a formality, and what Severus really wanted was to be Remus' personal stylist. First, there were lessons on how he ought to walk and stand and gesture, and then there were lessons on how to modulate his voice. Severus had even gone through his wardrobe and pronounced most of it unacceptable; that led to a two-day shopping spree during which Remus modeled so many clothes, he couldn't remember them all. The whole thing was just a blur of color and corsets. 

This morning, they had been through four different cosmetic "looks" for Remus, but Severus hadn't been satisfied with any of them, and Remus was starting to feel like Severus' life-sized dress-up doll. 

_Cross-dressing Ken - the newest addition to the Barbie line_ , he thought, daring to let a smile tug at his lips. 

"What are you grinning like a fool about?" Severus demanded as he stepped back to view his work. 

"Nothing." Remus shrugged, the smile not quite dissipating. "Have you heard of Barbie dolls?" 

Severus gave him a withering look. "Of course I have. I'm a half-blood, same as you. I grew up with a foot in both worlds." 

Remus blinked, startled. He knew that, but it was easy to forget; Severus adhered to Wizarding style and custom so firmly that it was difficult to imagine him having anything to do with Muggle culture. Then again, he thought, perhaps Severus had changed. Certainly he had never seen Severus wearing jeans before, particularly not a pair that was old and faded and snug, and my goodness, didn't Severus have a nice -

He stopped that train of thought before it could reach its conclusion to spare himself the experience of his brain leaking out his ears. 

But Severus _was_ wearing jeans and a jumper with what appeared to be a plain white long-sleeved tee shirt underneath; his long, dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his feet were bare. Long, slender and fine-boned, like his elegant hands-

Again, Remus put a halt to such thoughts. Doubtless, Severus' clothes were a concession to the fact that he was living in a Muggle neighborhood. Perhaps he had neighbors who dropped by, or he didn't want to risk being seen outside the flat wearing odd garb that would draw attention to himself. 

He cleared his throat while Severus turned away from him to pick up a brush and a jar of loose powder. "Mother or father?" he asked, relieved his voice had come out steady and normal. 

"Hhm?" Severus' brow furrowed in concentration as he mixed in a darker powder to change the shade. All the cosmetics, Remus had learned, were of Severus' own design and making, and they were better by far than anything Remus had ever tried before. 

"Which of your parents was a Muggle?" he clarified, finding himself genuinely curious. 

"Oh." Severus moved to stand in front of him again, stepping between Remus' knees as he brushed a light dusting of powder on Remus' cheeks, and Remus tried and failed not to be keenly aware of his proximity. "My father." 

"Did he accept you and your mother for what you were?" 

"What kind of question is that?" Severus glanced at him, appearing half-curious and half-annoyed by the query. 

"A personal one," Remus admitted with a teasing smile. "I just wondered. I mean, you were so..." He shrugged, deciding to take the risk of offending Severus with his choice of words. They were accurate, after all. "So bitter and angry when you came to Hogwarts. I thought perhaps it had something to do with your father being a Muggle." 

"No." Severus smoothed the brush along Remus' jaw line in a gesture that was so like a caress that Remus had to repress a shiver, but he knew better than to think it was anything more than Severus' attempts to make sure there were no visible foundation lines. "Da was fascinated, not repelled by magic, and we..." Severus lowered the brush and moved away from Remus, sifting restlessly through the jars and bottles on the vanity. "We were close." 

"Then what happened?" Remus asked softly, watching Severus' stiff back with growing sympathy. 

"He died." Severus' words were clipped. "Mine shaft collapse. I was seven." 

"I'm sorry." 

Severus shrugged and picked up a pot of powdered blush. "Mum and I went to live with my grandparents - her parents. Grandfather Prince was not best pleased by having a half-blood grandson. He spent a lot of time being angry with me for existing. I spent a lot of time being angry at Da for not being a Wizard so he could have Apparated himself out before the collapse." Straightening his spine, he approached Remus again, a fresh brush in hand as he began to apply the powder. "At any rate, what has any of this to do with Barbie dolls?" 

Remus was momentarily bewildered by the seeming non-sequiter until he remembered he had started this whole conversation by mentioning dolls. "Oh - when you asked, I was smiling because I thought you were treating me like your own life-sized Ken doll." 

"Cross-dressing Ken. I'm sure it will be a wildly successful new line," Severus said dryly, and Remus was startled by how closely Severus had echoed his own thoughts. Perhaps Severus had divined them via Legilimency, but somehow, Remus didn't think so. Of course, the idea of the two of them thinking alike about anything was more than a little unsettling, and part of him would far rather chalk it up to magic. 

Deciding that further conversation was a bad idea, Remus sat in silence while Severus worked until Severus stepped back, studied him, and nodded with what appeared to be satisfaction at long last. 

"Yes, that's it," Severus said, grasping Remus' arm and urging him to turn to face the looking glass. "This is the new Gigi St. Cloud." 

"She's beautiful." The words were out of Remus' mouth before he had time to think about them, but he didn't regret it, not when Severus all but visibly puffed up, radiating pride in his work.

"She is, isn't she." Severus gazed at Remus' reflection, and their eyes met in the mirror. For once, Remus didn't look away, and neither did Severus. "She'll give Starrina some competition," Severus said, his voice quiet and deep, and Remus was suddenly, acutely aware of Severus' hand still on his arm, the heat of the touch seeming to sear him through his clothes. 

To distract himself from that unnerving moment of connection, he tore his gaze away from Severus and looked at himself - at Gigi. In the light of day, the make-up seemed overdone and garish, but Remus knew that under the stage lights, it wouldn't seem too heavy-handed at all. Severus' cosmetics brought out his eyes, making them look larger and luminous, and somehow his lips appeared fuller - moist, glistening, tempting. 

"Nigel will be all over me," he said with a careless smile, and a frown passed fleetingly across Severus' features. 

"Who is this Nigel person, anyway?" Severus asked, his tone waspish as he dropped his hand from Remus' arm. "A lover?" 

"A friend," Remus corrected. "Nothing more. Not because I wouldn't," he added, although he wasn't certain why he was explaining himself to Severus, of all people. "I like men just as much as I like women. It's just that I haven't been involved with anyone since I left the Wizarding world." 

"Still holding out hope for Tonks, I suppose." Severus whirled away from him and began closing up the jars and bottles of cosmetics, his movements jerky. "I don't know why you want to go back there," he said, banging things around until Remus grew worried he was going to break something. "I don't know why I'm helping you." 

"I want to go back because it's my home," Remus said, rearing back on his stool when Severus rounded on him with a vicious snarl. 

"You could make anywhere in the world your home if you wanted to!" Severus' hands curled into fists by his sides, and Remus watched him, cautious and poised to spring if Severus turned violent. "You and your stupid attachments to people who don't give a damn about you! You'll have to learn it all the hard way, and believe me, I won't have a jot of sympathy for you." 

"I don't expect you to," Remus countered, his quiet voice underlined with steel. "You never have." 

"Pah! Spare me your piteous bleating." Severus turned his attention to the cosmetics again, and Remus breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Get out and take your whinging and self pity with you," Severus said, leaning heavily against the vanity table. 

Hesitantly, Remus slid off the stool and stood watching Severus for a moment. "You don't want to teach me how to do this myself?" he asked, gesturing to his face. 

"Not now. I'm sick of you." Severus snarled over his shoulder, lifting one hand to point to the door. "Go!" 

Remus went. 

He wasn't certain what had happened. Things had been going well, or so he thought, and now suddenly Severus was furious with him, and he didn't know why. He retreated to his room, puzzled and oddly bereft at the loss of the comfortable dynamic they had been enjoying. 

He wondered if perhaps Severus was having second thoughts about helping him, or perhaps Severus thought he had set the price for his assistance too low. Whatever the cause of his outburst, it seemed to be connected to his decision to help Remus, and Remus hoped he wouldn't be tossed out on his ear before Severus ran off to God only knew where again. 

For the next few days, Remus was quiet and obedient, hastening to obey Severus' orders without a single word of protest in hopes that he could somehow prevent Severus from rescinding the offer if he behaved well enough. In the meantime, Severus grew ever more demanding, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation until Remus began to wonder if Severus would scream at him for daring to observe that the sky was blue. 

He was kneeling in the shower stall, scrubbing diligently at the tiled wall to rid it of any hint of mold or soap scum, when Severus stormed into the bathroom and dumped a pile of CDs on the counter. Remus paused in his labor, glancing at the CDs uncertainly. 

"Here." Severus tapped the CD on the top of the pile. "You need to choose your song. Go through these and pick one." 

"Anything I like?" Remus asked, his tone dubious. It felt like he hadn't made a single decision about this performance so far, and he wasn't confident that Severus wouldn't veto his choice and make this decision for him as well. 

"I would suggest staying away from upbeat, high energy numbers," Severus said. "Those are what Starrina specializes in, and we don't want you to suffer in comparison. Besides, I believe you can manage ballads and slower numbers far better." 

Remus blinked, uncertain if he had heard correctly. "Did you just give me a compliment?" he asked, not bothering to hide the amused incredulity in his voice. 

"I stated a fact about your abilities," Severus retorted, scowling at him. "Don't read too much into it." 

"All right." Remus studied him from beneath his lashes, wanting to say more, but hesitant to risk rousing Severus' wrath anew. Things had been so tense lately, and he wanted to do something to ease that tension if he could, if only so he could stop feeling as if he was walking on eggshells. "Thank you," he said at last. 

Severus arched one eyebrow, staring down at Remus with cold hauteur. "Whatever for?" 

"For continuing to help me." Remus put down his brush and rose to his feet to face Severus. "I don't know what happened to upset you last week, but I'm grateful it wasn't enough to change your mind." 

Severus stared at him in silence, thunderstorms gathering on his thin face. The bottom fell out of Remus' stomach as he was overcome with the ominous feeling that he'd just put his foot in it without even knowing how. 

"We had an agreement." Severus drew himself up, every word frosted over. "Do you think so little of me that you believe I would go back on my word?" 

"No!" Remus shook his head, grimacing as he tried to figure out the best way to navigate the land mines littering this conversation. "Of course not. I just meant that you sounded as if you were having second thoughts, and I'm glad you didn't, that's all." 

"I _was_ having second thoughts, and I continue to have them," Severus replied, his voice still hard and cold. His demeanor showed no signs of softening in spite of Remus' attempts to make peace, and that didn't bode well. "As blind and dense to the possibilities beyond your sad, narrow little world as you are, I'm beginning to wonder why I should waste my time with you at all." 

"I don't understand why you object to the idea that I want my life back," Remus said, stripping off his rubber gloves and letting them fall to the floor of the shower. 

"Because you _can't have it back_." Severus took a step forward, lifting his hands as if he intended to grab Remus and perhaps shake him, but he let them fall to his sides again, seeming to settle for a glare instead. "Your life as you knew it is gone. Things are changing, and people are moving on - without you. You're clinging to a fantasy that will never come to pass, and I guarantee that even if you should try to resume your place, you will find nothing is as you left it, and your attempts to reintegrate will be awkward at best." 

"How do you know?" Remus countered, folding his arms across his chest and fixing Severus with an obstinate frown in return. "By your own admission, you haven't even been here." 

"That doesn't mean I haven't kept tabs on things," Severus replied, mirroring Remus' defensive posture and drumming his fingers on his upper arm. "I know who's married, who's dead, who's locked away in St. Mungo's with incurable spell damage. I know Hermione Granger has become zealous in her crusade to enact changes at the Ministry, particularly in regards to the rights of what she terms 'oppressed minorities'. Potter is using his leverage to help her. McGonagall is rebuilding Hogwarts, mostly in the figurative sense, but literally in some areas of the school that took heavy damage. I've heard there have been discussions of removing the House system entirely in the new spirit of unity that people are paying lip service to these days. There is a newly erected statue of Dumbledore in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. By all accounts, the design manages to be both heroic and insipid, and I've no doubt he would have found it delightful, if not for the reasons the artist hoped." 

Remus listened, stunned by the litany of information Severus rattled off as if it were nothing. As if he had been living there every day since the end of the war, still part of the loop that Remus had been thrown out of. Remus swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat as a fresh swell of longing surged within him; he wanted to be home, wanted to be a part of that world, _his_ world again. Yet a tiny part of him was fearful, knowing all too well that Severus could be right, and he could return to find he no longer belonged. 

"You're wrong," he said, stepping out of the shower and pushing his way past Severus. "I have a place there. You'll see!" 

He strode down the corridor, pausing only to grab his courier bag and his coat before heading to the door. Severus hurried along behind him and grabbed his arm as he reached out to unlock the door. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Severus demanded, and Remus spun around, fixing him with an implacable gaze. 

"Out." 

It wasn't often that Remus dug in his heels, but this time, he did, and Severus seemed to recognize there was no point in trying to stop him. He let go of Remus' arm and stepped back. 

"Running away from home, are you?" he sneered. 

"No, that's your game, not mine," Remus retorted as he unlocked and opened the door. "I'm running _to_ home." 

Severus boggled at him, and Remus felt a surge of satisfaction as he exited and slammed the door in Severus' face. It felt good to have the last word for once, and at the moment, he didn't care what price he would end up paying for it. 

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he set off for the nearest tube station, intending to visit Diagon Alley. He knew it was foolish at best and dangerous at worst; if anyone recognized him, he'd be arrested, but he needed to go there, if only for a few minutes. He needed a familiar touchstone - a reminder of why he was enduring this life and Severus' demands. He needed to remind himself of what he was fighting for, and his spirit was low enough to consider discovery worth the risk. 

He was almost there before he realized he wouldn't be able to enter Diagon Alley; without a wand, he couldn't open the wall himself, and no one ever allowed a stranger to follow them in. Their world depended too much on secrecy to risk it. He could still visit the Leaky Cauldron, however, and that was good enough. He would have a meal and a pint and enjoy being in a familiar, beloved setting again, and that would suffice. 

A momentary flare of doubt assailed him as he turned onto the narrow street leading to the pub, but he glanced up, awash in relief when he saw the sign. Wandless he might be, but he still possessed his magic, and it seemed that was good enough to gain him admittance. A smile, open and relaxed, tugged at his lips, and he found himself breathing easier as he walked through the door, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from him as he looked around and saw the familiar scenery and the usual assortment of patrons. 

He spotted a free table in a secluded corner, and he was about to go and claim it when his gaze fell on the couple at the adjoining table. 

A tall, dark-skinned man. A slender, pink-haired woman. 

On the table, their hands were joined, their fingers entwined. Their bodies were canted toward each other as if trying to shut out the rest of the world, or perhaps as if there was no one else in the world but the two of them. Certainly the adoration in their eyes as they gazed at each other bore that out. 

Remus halted abruptly, his breath, his mind and his heart all stopping; time itself seemed to freeze as he stared at them. At Tonks and at Kingsley and at the two of them. Together. Touching. 

Kingsley leaned over, smiling, and brushed a kiss against Tonks' lips, and Remus' world shattered. 

Whirling, he stumbled blindly out of the pub, heedless of what or who was in his path, and as soon as he was out the door, he broke into a run, not caring where he ended up as long as it was far away from the pub and _them_. His high-heeled shoes pinched and rubbed his feet, and his breath burned in his lungs the longer he ran, but he didn't stop until his legs were rubbery, and he could no longer draw breath. Only then did he sag against the nearest wall, gasps like dry sobs wrenched from his throat as he panted for air. 

Severus was right.


	2. Chapter 2

All this time, Remus had hoped he would be able to find Severus alive and put an end to his exile quickly. He had hoped he would be able to end this masquerade and resume his life - and that included Tonks. He had let go with one hand and held on with the other, and as a result, he had kept himself in a horrible, stagnant limbo for months instead of doing the sensible thing and moving on, even if it meant leaving things behind and having to start over completely. Was that so great a price to pay for freedom in a new life? 

Under the circumstances, there was only one thing Remus felt he could do: get falling down drunk. 

Pushing himself away from the wall, he began to walk aimlessly in search of a pub - any pub - and as soon as he found one, he went inside, slid into a secluded booth at the back of the room, and handed a fistful of notes to the woman who ambled over to take his order. 

"I want something strong and lots of it," he said. "If the money runs out before I'm drunk enough, I'll give you more." 

The woman's eyes widened, and she cast him a sympathetic look. "Man trouble?" she asked, her tone compassionate. 

Remus thought about Kingsley and Severus and Nigel and Starrina. "Yes." 

"Poor duck." She patted his shoulder kindly before walking away, counting out the money as she returned to the bar. 

By the time the bartender helped him into a taxi, Remus had no idea what time it was, and walking was an act of balance and dexterity currently beyond him. The driver asked where he wanted to go, and he had to think about it for a moment. He'd given up his flat when he moved in with Severus, thinking he wouldn't need it once his name was cleared, and he could return to the Wizarding world. There was no one he could go in the Wizarding world to without putting himself and them at risk. He supposed he could turn to Nigel, but he didn't want to give Nigel false hope, and he couldn't remember Nigel's address anyway. He had no home, no sanctuary... He only had the club and Severus.

He gave the driver Severus' address and slumped wearily in the back seat as the taxi carried him to the only place he could call home. A sad state of affairs indeed, he thought, resentment rising up within him. It only escalated until he was seething with banked anger when the taxi dropped him off; he paid the fare and stomped his way up to the flat, let himself in, and slammed the door shut behind himself with a resounding crash. 

Severus glanced up from where he sat on the sofa, reading a newspaper. "Ah. You're back." 

"Did you know?" Remus demanded, his words slurred and filled with uncharacteristic venom, but he was ready to blame someone, and Severus was the nearest convenient target. 

"About what?" Severus folded the paper neatly and set it aside before rising to his feet to face Remus. 

"About _them_. Tonks and Kingsley. That they're together." 

"Huh." Severus absorbed this news, seeming to view it as a fascinating tidbit of information to be filed away, not as the revelation that had shattered Remus' life that it was. "No, actually, I didn't know." 

"Would you've told me if you did?" Remus peered at him blearily, his drunken gaze accusatory. 

"No," Severus replied calmly. "If only because you wouldn't have believed me if I had. You were in such denial, you probably would have accused me of lying to hurt or manipulate you." 

Remus opened his mouth to issue an indignant denial, but even his booze-soaked brain recognized Severus' words as the truth. He had been wrong about Tonks, about his life, about Severus... about _everything_ , and now his life was in utter shambles, and it was all his own fault. 

"Oh, God..." He covered his face with both hands, alcohol and misery roiling together in his stomach and conspiring to make him sick, both physically and emotionally. "I don't know what I'm going to do..." 

"You're going to come over here and sit down before you vomit on my rug," Severus said firmly as he grasped Remus' shoulders and steered him to the sofa. He gave Remus a push, and Remus let himself drop; the floor was swaying too much for his liking anyway. "The next thing you're going to do is stop wallowing." Severus sat down beside him, still speaking in the authoritative tone Remus had often heard him use with his students. "You're drunk, and you're in no condition to be making any decisions." 

Remus gazed at Severus, listening to him intently, mesmerized by the sound of his voice. How had he never noticed how sexy Severus' voice was before? "You're so sensible," he murmured. 

A small smile bloomed on his lips as he continued to watch Severus, thinking about all the ways Severus had helped him. Severus was willing to testify on his behalf, and really, the price wasn't that exorbitant. Severus was brewing the Wolfsbane potion for him and making cosmetics for him and buying him clothes and giving him a place to stay and something to do other than perform for the club. Severus didn't have to come back; he could have stayed away or gone deeper underground so Remus could never find him, but he hadn't. 

Deep down, perhaps he had wanted to help Remus. Perhaps he even cared a little. 

Anger shifted to maudlin sentimentality, and Remus' smile widened to beatific bliss as he hauled himself into Severus' lap and flung his arms around Severus' neck, determined to repay Severus' kindness. He could feel Severus' body stiffen, but only for a moment, and then Severus let out a squawk and began pushing at Remus' chest, trying to shove him away, but Remus only burrowed closer. 

"You've been so good to me, Severus," he said, leaning his head on Severus' shoulder. 

"I have not! I've been spiteful and vindictive, and I've yelled at you!" 

"You bought me that pretty silk satin evening gown with the beaded waist I liked." Remus tightened his arms around Severus and pressed his nose beneath Severus' ear, nuzzling the delicate skin gently. 

"Yes." Severus cleared his throat, and his struggling diminished in its intensity, the shoves dwindling to halfhearted nudges. "Well, that was for the club." 

"You didn't make me clean your flat with a toothbrush," Remus said, sliding his hand up to finger-comb Severus' hair as he gave in to temptation and pressed a light kiss to Severus' throat. Severus was warm and solid and _there_ ; Remus hadn't touched anyone like this in such a long time, and he had missed it so much. He was lonely, and he thought Severus might be too, but they didn't have to be lonely anymore. 

"I thought about it." Severus gave a quiet 'hmph', although Remus could feel him shiver at the kiss, and he slowly wrapped his arms around Remus. 

With that, Remus sighed happily and relaxed, snuggling against Severus' chest and closing his eyes. This felt so good, and he wriggled with delight when Severus began to rub his back, caressing up and down with long, smooth strokes of his hands. 

Now that he was sitting still with his eyes closed, Remus' head was no longer spinning; he felt relaxed and buzzy, and the giant knot in his stomach had gone away. He kicked off his shoes and tucked his legs up so that he could curl against Severus, savoring the firm press of another body against his. 

"You're drunk," Severus said, and even in his altered state, Remus could tell he sounded a little sad. "You won't even remember this in the morning." 

"I will." 

And he did. When he awoke the next morning with his eyeballs threatening to pop out of his skull of their own volition and his mouth feeling - and tasting - like something small and furry had died in it, Remus' hangover was made a thousand times worse by the sudden, vivid memory of how he had snuggled on Severus' lap. 

Groaning, he let his head fall in his hands. Severus was going to kill him. It didn't matter whether or not he could ever return to the Wizarding world again, because his life was over. 

But then he began to remember the feel of gentle, long-fingered hands stroking his back and the way Severus had let him stay - had even pulled him closer. Severus had let him doze for a while before helping him to bed, making him drink a glass of water first. 

Severus had taken care of him rather than pushing him away and leaving him to fend for himself. Perhaps that meant Severus wouldn't kill him after all. Or perhaps it meant Severus was counting on Remus _not_ remembering he had been kind, in which case, Remus ought not bring it up. It would, he thought, be the safer and more prudent course of action. 

When he finally threw back the covers and sat up, he noticed a note on his bedside table; grabbing it, he peered at it blearily. 

_Take the day off._

Remus stared at the terse note, and then he closed his eyes, filled with a sense of relief. No play-acting today, no servitude today, no trying to make the best of things today. He could be... He could be _himself_ for the first time in a long time. 

Tossing the note back onto the table, he climbed out of bed and went to the wardrobe to fetch a box hidden away on the top shelf. He pulled it down and opened it, removing some clothes. They were old, faded, and in need of mending, but they were _his_ clothes, not Robert's or Gigi's - remnants of his old life he hadn't been able to part with. It was, he knew, one more example of how he had refused to let go, but at the moment, he was glad of it. 

He made his way slowly down the hall to the loo, and he took a long, hot bath, the heat and the steam cleansing him in more ways than one. Once he was pruny and tired of lounging in the tub, he emerged, dried off, and went to the sink to shave, not worrying about whether it was close enough that he could get through the day without shaving again. He dressed in boxer underpants, men's jeans, and a jumper that had seen better days, but at this moment, it was his favorite garment in the entire world. 

The best thing, he thought as he stared at himself in the looking glass, was that he didn't have to put on a wig. He raked his fingers through his damp, close-cropped hair, closing his eyes with utter bliss as he scratched his scalp. 

Rather than go in search of Severus, Remus returned to his room and, after removing the untidy pile of clothes he'd tossed on it, curled up in the wingback chair by the window. Tucking his feet beneath him, he leaned his head against the wing of the chair as he gazed out at the busy London street beyond. Outside, Muggles and Wizards were going on with their lives as usual; cars whizzed by on the street, and people jogged past the building with music players in their hands or strolled by with a dog on a leash. Unlike his, their lives were going on as usual, and while knew he wasn't the only person in this entire city who was nursing a broken heart, it felt like he was. 

He didn't want to do anything; he simply wanted to be, content to watch life go by for the time being. The day passed, and Remus didn't move from his chair, dozing when he felt sleepy and sitting quietly and thinking the rest of the time. He had a lot to sort through, a hundred thoughts roiling around in his head at the same time, and he had to face the fact that his life as he knew it had been irrevocably changed the day he agreed to go undercover. 

His hopes of resuming his relationship with Tonks been destroyed, but he realized he wasn't certain that relationship was what he wanted anymore anyway. He had been clinging to the idea of a joyful reunion between them as he had been clinging to the idea of stepping back into his life as if nothing had changed. He had been more enamored of the idea of the relationship and what it represented - namely, the return of his old life - than the relationship itself. He had loved Tonks, but in the months apart from her, his heart had healed; it was his head that had refused to let go.

Which was all very well and good and more self-aware than he'd been in a while, but it still left him with the question of what to do about Severus. 

Severus, who was vitriolic and temperamental and scathing. Severus, who had been sympathetic in his own odd way the night before and who had shown a surprising amount of consideration that morning. Severus was a puzzle, one that Remus had to admit fascinated him. 

By dinnertime, he was no closer to having any answers than he had been that morning, and he was hungry to boot. With a sigh, he uncurled his legs, stood and stretched, and then he ambled to the kitchen to find something to eat. He stopped short in the doorway when he realized Severus was already in there, but there was no chance of a retreat when Severus glanced over his shoulder and spotted him. 

His eyebrows climbing, Severus turned and gave Remus a once-over, and Remus ducked his head, wondering if he was going to be chastised for breaking the rules about wearing women's clothes all the time. Severus had given him the day off, but perhaps it hadn't extended to taking that liberty, at least not outside his own room. 

"I don't think I've ever seen your hair that short," Severus remarked, moving closer and lifting one hand as if he intended to touch, but he didn't; Remus surprised himself by feeling a little pang of disappointment. "It's almost entirely grey, too." He scrutinized Remus' hair, his eyes narrowed. "No, silver. It's turned silver."

"Yes." Remus reached up and ruffled his hair self-consciously. "It makes wearing a wig every day easier if I keep it short. Nigel suggested shaving my head, but I couldn't bear to do that." 

"Good." Severus turned and went back the counter. "Do you want a sandwich?" he asked as he spread mayonnaise on a slice of bread. 

"I could make-" 

"No." Severus waved him silent, not bothering to look at him. "You've had a rough time of it. The least I can do is make a bloody sandwich." 

"Thank you." Remus managed not to gape at him, focusing his attention on setting the table for two to cover his bewilderment at Severus' solicitous behavior. 

"I suppose you're devastated," Severus said flatly once they were both seated and provided with thick roast beef sandwiches. "The love of your life is gone forever and all that rubbish." 

"Not so much devastated as adrift." Remus picked a tiny bit of roast beef off the edge of his sandwich and ate it, waiting to see how it settled in his stomach before continuing. "I've done a lot of thinking today, and I realized how much I had been clinging to the past. It was a mistake, and yesterday, I paid for it." 

"Adrift in what way?" Severus asked, peering at him with a shrewd, searching expression. 

"In that I don't know why I'm bothering with this any longer." Remus shrugged and pushed his plate away, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. "You were right. Things have changed, everyone has moved on, and I'm the fool for trying so damned hard to fix things and get my life back." 

"Overly optimistic, perhaps, but not foolish," Severus replied. "Change is never easy, particularly unwanted change, and you are hardly the first person who has tried to cling to the familiar." 

"I know." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes briefly before speaking again. "It's just that I've been living this life I never wanted for months, and it's all for naught. It feels like such a waste." 

"Have you hated being Robert and Gigi so much, then?" There was no accusation in Severus' voice, only curiosity, and it encouraged Remus to respond freely. 

"I haven't hated it," he said, picking at the bread crust on his sandwich. "But I don't like it. I've never had any desire to wear women's clothes, much less to do so every hour of every day, and I haven't learned to love it. I've done it because I had to, but I'm not a cross-dresser by nature." 

"I suppose that explains why I've had such an uphill battle turning you into a decent drag queen," Severus retorted, some of the acerbity creeping back into his voice. 

"Well, what about you?" Remus fixed him with a searching look. "You've done it because you had to. Surely you understand how I feel." 

" _I_ happen to enjoy it." Severus lifted his nose in the air, radiating a sense of hauteur that practically dared Remus to mock him for the admission. 

"Oh." Remus didn't know what to say to that, and so he turned his attention back to his uneaten sandwich, toying with the idea of taking a bite. 

A minute or two of awkward silence ensued until Severus finally spoke again. "The way I see it, you have two options. You can pack it all in, remove yourself to another country, and start your life anew. You will be able to stop masquerading as a woman, but I doubt you will ever be able to use your own name again, and you will never be able to return here for any reason without risk. Or you can finish out this month as agreed, and at the end of it, I will uphold my part of the bargain. You will be able to stay here or go as you please, using your own face and your own name." He shrugged and picked up his sandwich. "The choice is yours." 

With that, Severus began to eat, leaving Remus to mull over their conversation. Once again, he had to admit Severus was right: he had two choices, and he needed to decide which was the most appealing even after his distressing revelation. 

Pride urged him to fulfill the bargain; he had been forced to give up and give in so many times in his life, but this decision was his to make. If he stayed until the month was up, he would be free. He wouldn't be able to pick up where he left off as he had hoped, but he could start over, here or elsewhere. His options, he knew, would be far greater than if he fled now. 

It was tempting, however, to turn tail and run. He felt battered, disappointment and pain urging him to go to ground somewhere no one he knew could ever find him again. But he had invested so much time in this bargain, and he was so close...

"I'll stay," he said, the words falling off his tongue before he realized he intended to speak them. "I'll finish out the month as we agreed, and at the end of it..." He drew in a deep breath, steeling his resolve. "I'll figure something out." 

"Very well." Severus sounded neutral, almost bored, but there was something playing at the corners of his mouth that made Remus wonder if he was pleased by the decision. 

He wanted to think that Severus returned his newly discovered interest. The fact that Severus hadn't hexed Remus for crawling into his lap, drunk or not, seemed to favor that interpretation, but in the days that followed, Severus gave no indication the incident or Remus' decision to remain had affected him one way or another. He stopped throwing unexpected and inexplicable temper tantrums, but perhaps that was because Remus had admitted he was right about how things had changed. 

On the night of the full moon, however, Remus found his world tilting on its axis once again. He had the night off from the club as usual, and he spent the day wondering what he was going to do, because every time he asked, Severus brushed him off and refused to answer. He began to think perhaps he ought to make his own arrangements when Severus came into his room and told him to pack an overnight bag. With a sinking heart, he obeyed, thinking Severus intended to banish him somewhere for the night. But then Severus returned with his own bag in one hand and the last dose of the Wolfsbane potion in the other. When Remus had drunk it, Severus wrapped his arm around Remus' waist, and with a loud, familiar crack, he Apparated them both away. 

Moony spent the night running free through a forest, chasing rabbits, terrorizing hedgehogs, and following every scent trail that captured his attention while Severus remained behind, safe and snug, in a little cottage on the forest's edge. The next morning, Severus brought Remus a cup of tea and some Muggle pills for the pain in his aching joints and muscles, and he gave Remus a chaste sponge bath before tucking him into bed and urging him to sleep. 

As far as Remus was concerned, it was evidence that Severus wasn't as completely indifferent to him as Severus might want him to think, but it was circumstantial at best, since it could be chalked up to Severus wanting his house boy on his feet again as soon as possible. It was almost laundry day, after all. 

Before he knew it, the month was nearly over, and he was no closer to finding answers to his questions. He didn't want to risk verbal evisceration by coming right out and asking Severus, "Say, do you happen to fancy me?" If the answer was no, Remus might as well go straight to the Devil and ask for the deluxe package in Hell, because it would be a cake walk compared to what Severus would put him through. 

Even Nigel noticed that Remus seemed preoccupied most of the time, and while they were getting ready for final dress rehearsal before Remus' debut performance, Nigel took him aside in the dressing room. 

"Look, you know I don't like to meddle in other people's business-" 

Remus burst out laughing, earning a glare and a swat on the arse. 

"Cheeky bitch!" Nigel scolded. "It's just that I've noticed you haven't seemed yourself lately. I wouldn't have said anything, because God knows it's driving Starrina insane that she can't ruffle your feathers with all her catty little digs, but I'm worried. Is it Mr. Tall, Dark and Grumpy? Is he making you unhappy?" 

"No, not at all." Remus offered a reassuring smile. "I'm happy with him, really I am. It's just this performance. I've never performed on my own before, and I'm nervous. What if I forget the words?" 

"Pish tosh!" Nigel slid one arm around his waist and gave him a little squeeze. "You'll be divine, and even if you forget the words, no one will care, because they'll all be drooling over how gorgeous you are." Nigel studied Remus' make-up with a careful eye. "I've got to say, princess - Broodypants may be a grumpy bugger, but he does fantastic work." 

"He does, yes." Remus smiled proudly, and Nigel rolled his eyes. 

"Oh, God. You've got it bad, haven't you?" He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You aren't in _love_ , are you?" 

Remus' smile turned wry, and he nodded. "I rather think I am," he said, realizing the truth of the words even as he spoke them. 

Nigel let out a squeal and kissed Remus soundly on the cheek - and that was the moment Severus chose to walk into the dressing room with Remus' costume. Severus froze in his tracks and fixed Nigel with a glare that could have turned a lesser man into a quivering pile of pudding, but Nigel was impervious. 

"Oh, don't worry." Nigel smirked as he released Remus and moved away. "I was just giving our princess a kiss for good luck." 

Severus didn't answer; he merely draped the gown over the nearest chair. "You're expected on-stage for a run-through in fifteen minutes," he said, and with that, he turned and marched out of the dressing room. 

"Not the demonstrative sort, is he." Nigel watched Severus go, shaking his head. "You may love him, princess, but damned if I know why. He's not half-bad to look at if you catch him in the right light, but it must be like cuddling with a block of ice!" 

"He isn't that bad when we're alone," Remus said, turning his attention to the looking glass and fussing with his wig as he tried to ignore the knot of worry in his stomach. Had Severus got the wrong idea about him and Nigel? Or had Severus perhaps overheard Remus' admission of being in love? Remus honestly couldn't decide which was worse. 

"I should hope not, because he certainly doesn't act like a lover around here." With that, Nigel sniffed haughtily, removed himself to the other side of the room and began rummaging through his extensive collection of shoes. 

Remus opened his mouth to reply, but Severus stalked into the room again, this time bearing a pair of gloves and a shoe box, but he quickly tossed them aside and made a beeline for Remus. 

"Finally a little privacy," Severus said, his voice low and sultry - a sensual purr that went straight to Remus' knees and made them give way. 

Suddenly he found himself in Severus' arms, but before he could ask what the devil was going on, Severus had captured his mouth in a deep, demanding kiss. Instinctively, Remus parted his lips to accept the warm slide of Severus' tongue between them, and he wound his arms around Severus' neck, arching against him. He didn't know what had brought this on, but he didn't care; he wanted it, and he wasn't about to refuse. 

"A-HEM!" Nigel let out an exaggerated cough, and Remus pulled away from Severus reluctantly, his expression sheepish as he glanced at Nigel. 

Severus, however, looked smug and quite pleased with himself, and he didn't relinquish his hold on Remus; indeed, he slid his hand down to rest his hand on Remus' arse in what seemed to be a proprietary gesture. "Sorry," Severus said, although his tone implied he was anything but contrite. "I didn't realize you were still in here." 

"Mm-hmm." Nigel pursed his lips and raised a dubious eyebrow, and Remus felt his face going up in flames. He gave it until the end of the rehearsal before everyone in the club - including the performers who weren't even here - knew that Roberta had been caught snogging in the dressing room. 

Not that Remus minded. Severus' display of possessiveness was encouraging; if Severus felt proprietary enough to consider Nigel a threat and try to warn him off, then surely he wasn't indifferent to Remus. With a pleased smile that he couldn't quell even if he wanted to tugging at his lips, Remus sauntered out of the room with a little extra spring in his step. 

In spite of Starrina throwing a very loud, very public fit over Remus infringing on her own rehearsal time, the rehearsal went smoothly. Severus didn't have a chance to hear Remus' choice of song since he spent the entire time backstage. Nigel gleefully informed Remus later that Severus had caught Starrina in their dressing room, looking as if she were up to no good. A clash of the titans had erupted, resulting in the stage manager having to intervene. 

Remus wished he hadn't missed it; the sight of Severus and Starrina going head to head was one he would have paid good money to see. He was glad, though, that Severus hadn't heard him; it meant the song he had chosen would remain a surprise, and Remus preferred it that way because Severus was going to be in the audience. 

In theory, this was a good thing, since Remus intended to put himself out on a limb during his performance; if Severus reacted the way he hoped, then he imagined the end of the evening would be quite a pleasant one indeed. If Severus did not react the way he hoped... Well, it would make his decision about whether to stay or go much easier. 

In theory, the odds were in his favor, especially after Severus' own performance in the dressing room. If that hadn't been a territorial display, Remus would eat his own wig; there was no doubt Severus had known Nigel was still in the room and had kissed Remus to prove a point. Remus just hoped the possessiveness stemmed from jealousy because Severus had feelings for him, not merely because Severus didn't want anyone else to play with his toy. 

But theory wasn't the same as reality, and as the time for him to go on-stage drew near, Remus began to wonder if he was making a huge mistake. The butterflies in his stomach were roughly the size of dinner plates, and it wasn't entirely because he had never performed solo before. 

Starrina was pointedly Not Speaking to him, and neither were her most loyal sycophants, but that didn't bother Remus. Nigel and his other friends were supportive, offering encouragement as he waited in the wings for his time to go on. 

"And now a special event for one night only..." 

Remus breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, the gargantuan butterflies deciding to take up a spirited game of Quidditch. 

"The debut performance of our own Miss Gigi St. Cloud!" 

He swallowed hard, sending up a little prayer in hopes that the gods or Fate or whoever was in charge of this sort of thing would smile upon him for once, and then he put on his best stage smile and walked out into the bright lights. 

There was a smattering of applause and one wolf whistle, which Remus recognized as coming from Nigel, but it made his stage smile become a real one as he gazed out at the sea of faces in front of him, seeking one face in particular. Severus had opted not to disguise himself, saying he wasn't worried about being recognized in a crowd of Muggle strangers, and as his music began, Remus spotted Severus sitting at a table near the front. He smiled and winked right at Severus as he sauntered over to retrieve the mic from its stand. 

"Sooner or later, you're gonna be mine..." Remus' singing voice, like his speaking voice, was in the tenor range, and he had spent the last few weeks practicing to make it higher and lighter without sounding like a parody falsetto. He could hear a little quaver, but he refused to give into nerves, and the next line came out sounding far stronger and more sure. 

He let his gaze roam over the entire audience for the first verse, but once he began the second, he strolled over to the side of the stage where he could stand in front of Severus, hips swaying provocatively with every step. Lifting one gloved hand, he pointed at Severus as he declared, "Baby, you're mine on a platter. I always get my man!" 

It was a Sondheim song, one that had struck Remus as being the perfect means of declaring himself to Severus without making a complete fool of himself since it could be brushed off as mere theatrics on his part if Severus wasn't pleased. But Severus appeared more intrigued than annoyed as Remus made his way down the steps at the front of the stage and went straight to Severus' table. 

"I'm gonna love you like nothin' you've known," Remus crooned as he draped himself across Severus' lap, crossing his legs to give Severus a provocative view thanks to the slit in the skirt of his gown. The rest of the audience laughed and applauded, and Severus immediately wound both arms around Remus' waist as if to make certain he didn't wander off to give someone else the same treatment. 

But Remus had no intention of going anywhere. Sliding one arm across Severus' shoulders, he gazed into Severus' dark eyes as he continued the song, hoping Severus realized he wasn't just performing. "I'm gonna love you and you all alone." 

During the final stanza, Remus untangled himself from Severus' embrace with reluctance and returned to the stage, ending with a little of the choreography he'd spent the last few days practicing and had just completely ignored. Their choreographer wouldn't be happy, but Remus didn't care; this was his one and only solo performance, and with any luck, it would be Gigi St. Cloud's last time on stage ever. 

As the music faded, he curtseyed, and the audience erupted into thunderous applause. Surprised but gratified, he grinned as he blew kisses to the crowd, and then he retreated to the wings, having resolved not to perform an encore. He wasn't Starrina, after all, and even though he hoped never to see her again after tonight, he didn't want to antagonize the diva even more than he already had. 

As soon as he was off-stage, he found himself surrounded and hugged and kissed - and groped - by his enthusiastic friends; they were all laughing and talking at once, but he managed to figure out amid all the babble that his performance had been well-received. Awash in relief that it was over, he hugged and kissed - but did not grope - in return, accepting their congratulations with gratitude. He was relieved he hadn't forgotten the words or fallen off the stage; that he had made it through the entire performance without incident was enough for him. All that remained to be seen what the one critic whose opinion he cared about most thought of his act. 

Remus was propelled toward the dressing room where the others, including Nigel, busied themselves primping for their own numbers and gossiping cattily about how long it took before Starrina was down with nervous prostration and had to be cosseted back to health after Gigi's successful performance. As usual, Remus sat quietly and listened, remaining in his stage makeup and costume; the dressing room would be empty for a few minutes while they were all on-stage, and that would be time enough for him to change his clothes and cosmetics. 

Caught up in listening to the chatter around him, he didn't notice anyone had entered the dressing room until a hush fell; only then did he glance up and see Severus had come in. The others watched him approach Remus with wide, glittering eyes and knowing smirks, and Remus pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, ready to accept Severus' verdict. 

But instead of saying anything, Severus reached for a washcloth and a jar of cold cream, and Remus watched, bewildered, as he unscrewed the lid off the jar and began smearing the cold cream on Remus' face. Rearing back, Remus tried to pull away, but he was against the vanity, and there was nowhere to go, not to mention he didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone else. 

"Severus, what are you doing?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but he hoped Severus could see the apprehension he felt in his eyes. He had never shown his true face to anyone here, and even though they were all Muggles, he didn't feel safe showing it as long as he was a wanted man. 

"Helping you clean up," Severus replied, and there was a chorus of "aww..."s from around the room. 

Remus stood still, his body stiff as if poised for flight, but he allowed Severus to wash away the heavy stage makeup. When his face was bare, he felt exposed and vulnerable, and he wanted answers - wanted to know why Severus was willing to put him at risk like this. Had this all been a ruse, and now Severus intended to betray him? 

"Why?" he asked softly. 

Severus reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a long, slender envelope, and he handed it to Remus. "You don't have to do this anymore." 

For a moment, Remus stared blankly at the envelope in his hands, tentative hope welling up inside him. Could this be what he hoped it was? With shaking hands, he tore it open and pulled out the document within, scanning it swiftly.

A pardon. 

He was pardoned. 

He was _free_. 

"Oh, my God..." He couldn't tear his eyes away from the words, not wanting to look away in case this was all an hallucination and when he looked back, they would be gone. 

While Remus re-read the document, too shell-shocked to move, Severus reached up and tugged off his wig and the taped cap he wore beneath, and he sifted his fingers through Remus' silver hair tenderly. "Contacts," he said, plucking the document from Remus' hands. 

He refolded it and slipped it back into the envelope while Remus plucked out the brown-tinted contacts, taking two tries to get them out thanks to the tremor in his fingers. Severus held out his hand; Remus dropped the lenses into his palm, and he chucked them into the nearest rubbish bin. 

"No more," he said firmly. "Say good-bye to your friends, because you're done here. You're coming with me." 

With a strangled cry, Remus flung his arms around Severus' neck, clinging to him briefly before capturing Severus' face between his hands and pulling him into a deep, desperate kiss, accompanied by applause and sniffles and more "aww"s. When they parted at last, Remus stepped back and offered Severus a serene smile. 

"Of course I am," he said, scarcely able to believe the last ten minutes were real and not a vivid dream he would wake up from all too soon. 

As soon as Severus moved away from him, Remus was swarmed once more, and he felt a pang of remorse at having to leave his friends behind. He wouldn't miss the club or being Gigi St. Cloud, but he would miss the people here. Well, except Starrina, he thought with a naughty little smile. 

"Oh, you bitch," Nigel said as he clung to Remus tightly. "Not only did you give Starrina a month-long migraine and find yourself a sugar daddy who wants to take you away from all this, but you're just as gorgeous under all that make-up as I always thought you'd be. If I didn't love you so much, I'd hate you right now." 

"Keep giving Miss Diva hell for me, all right?" Remus gave Nigel a little squeeze, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. 

"I will." Nigel sniffled and offered a watery smile as he released Remus. "Be happy, Roberta. Rob," he corrected himself as he patted Remus' cheek gently. 

"I will," Remus replied, glancing at Severus with a smile. That was one promise he would be able to keep easily. 

Severus helped him pack his things, and after Remus had changed into the clothes Severus had brought for him, they slipped away before the last act of the night ended, returning to the flat in companionable silence. Remus was too overwhelmed to speak; the joy of having everything he wanted given to him all at once was too great to articulate, and he settled for clasping Severus' hand and squeezing it tightly as the taxi carried them home. 

Only when they were alone with the door locked behind them and all of Remus' belongings from the club put aside for the time being did Remus speak, giving voice to his suspicions even as he wound his arms around Severus' neck. 

"Did you have that all along?" he asked, and Severus made a scoffing noise. 

"I suppose you didn't notice the date on it." Severus' tone was mocking, but he slid his arms around Remus' waist in return, pulling him close. "No, it arrived a few days ago. I decided to wait and give it to you tonight. It seemed a fitting way to end the month." 

"It certainly was quite a surprise." Remus smiled as he sifted his fingers through Severus' hair, the heat of arousal pooling in his belly as he pressed against Severus. 

"No less than your impromptu interaction with the audience - or at least one particular member of the audience," Severus retorted even as he slid his hands down to cup Remus' arse. 

"I didn't see you objecting." Remus raised an eyebrow at him, earning a swat on the arse in return. 

"Why would I object?" With a predatory smirk, Severus began walking Remus backward until his back hit the nearest wall, and he rolled his hips in a slow, maddening undulation that wrenched a groan from Remus' throat. "Especially since I vote for sooner rather than later in regards to getting my man." 

"Sooner it is," Remus gasped, clinging to Severus' shoulders to keep his knees from giving way as the slow grind of Severus' hips stoked his desire from an ember to a conflagration. 

With a low moan, Severus bent his head and captured Remus' mouth, and Remus couldn't tell which of them was more hungry as they devoured each other's mouths in a desperate give-and-take of tongues. Severus reached for the fastenings of Remus' jeans, and Remus was quick to reciprocate, their fingers clumsy and fumbling in their haste to pop buttons and shove confining fabric out of the way. 

"Yes..." The word was a sibilant hiss as Remus let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes and reveling in the exquisite pleasure of Severus' long, graceful fingers curled around his cock. He wrapped his fist around Severus' cock in return, fiercely satisfied to find it hard and leaking, irrefutable evidence of Severus' need for him. 

Severus swooped down and began peppering Remus' throat with kisses and sharp nips of his teeth, making Remus' arousal spiral ever higher as they rocked together, finding a rhythm and falling into it easily. Remus' breathing grew labored, and he could feel his skin growing sweat-slick as they thrust and pushed and stroked, their moans as intertwined as their bodies. 

He wanted this - needed this - it felt so right and so perfect, and he clung to Severus, chanting a litany of "God" and "yes" and "Severus" as the tension coiled and built and finally snapped, and he heard Severus' strangled cry as if from a distance as he gave himself over to the pleasure of heat and sweat and bone-melting satiation. 

Severus slumped against him, pressing him against the wall, and his breath mingled with Remus' as they panted together. With a quiet hum of contentment, Remus sought Severus' mouth again, and this time, their kiss was a leisurely exploration for the sheer pleasure of becoming acquainted with lips and tongues and taste. 

"You sounded good tonight," Severus murmured against his lips. "Even better than I thought you would. Better than my memory." 

"Thank you." Remus felt his face growing warm, but with pleasure at the compliment rather than embarrassment. But now that the frantic urging of lust had been satisfied, he was thinking clearly again, and the question that had been plaguing him all month resurfaced. "I have to ask, though... Why did you come back, and what was the point of forcing me to go through with that performance? I don't understand any of it." 

"There isn't an easy answer." Severus' expression grew pensive, and Remus felt his stomach clench; he wondered if perhaps he ought not have shattered the moment by asking, but he needed to understand what Severus' motivations were before they went any further. "When I discovered you were the one searching for me, I thought all I wanted was to enjoy having power over you since Potter and Black were beyond my reach forever." 

"That's what I thought as well," Remus admitted. "I thought you wanted a chance to exact your pound of flesh." 

"I did, but it wasn't quite so simple." Severus turned his gaze to the floor, his brows drawing together in a frown. "I wanted to make you react. It has always annoyed me that I've never been able to ruffle you as I've ruffled others so easily. You always smiled ever so calmly and replied with a joke, and I wanted to throttle you. I thought this would force you to react to me." 

"Why did you want me to react to you so badly?" Remus asked, more confused than he had been before the conversation began. 

"For the same reason a boy will dip a girl's pigtails in an inkwell or steal her books or pull her hair," Severus said dryly. "I wanted your attention, although I wasn't honest with myself regarding the reasons why for a long time." 

"Oh." Remus couldn't keep a pleased smile from blooming on his lips. "I never guessed. I thought you hated me." 

"I wanted to." Severus gave an insouciant shrug, still not looking at Remus. "I didn't. Couldn't. But it wasn't just that I wanted to make you react or that I wanted revenge. I wanted to make a point, too. You've always hidden yourself away. You hid behind the placid mask, you took a back seat to Potter and Black, you hid away in the chorus at the club. I thought it was time for you to stop hiding." 

"But to force me into performing a solo act..." 

"You have a good voice," Severus said, his tone laced with irritation. "The war is over, you aren't evil, you aren't a beast, and you aren't a monster. You're a Wizard, and you should have the kind of life you want, if not here, then somewhere else. I wanted you to stop _hiding_ , damn it, and take the spotlight for once. I wanted you to stop being a mealy-mouthed little rug and take your life back instead of letting yourself be led around by everyone else - including me." Severus snapped his head up and fixed Remus with a fierce, dark gaze. "For God's sake, Remus, aren't you tired of it yet? Don't you want to cut the strings other people have been using to yank you around all these years?"

"Are we still talking about me?" Remus asked pointedly, and a tinge of pink flooded Severus' sallow cheeks as he glanced down again. 

"Perhaps I'm talking about both of us," he admitted grudgingly. 

Remus leaned his head back against the wall, thinking about how much his life had been controlled by others. Greyback had stalked him and turned him; the Ministry had set down limits on his employment options; prejudice and fear had forced him to present himself as quiet and non-threatening and had stilled his tongue until keeping secrets became second nature to him. He had spent his life being afraid - afraid of being disliked, of being feared, of poverty, of being unloved, of trusting, of losing those he cared about. He had tried to avoid all of it, yet everything he had feared had come to pass. 

So why had he bothered being afraid in the first place? Why had he bothered trying to be safe and accommodating when it had gained him nothing? 

Perhaps Severus was right, he thought. It was time to cut the strings, stop hiding, stop being afraid, and take charge of his own life. That meant making his own decisions, and he knew the first one he wanted to make.

"That leaves me with only one last question," he said. 

Severus peeked at him warily. "What is it?"

"Where are we going?" he asked, remembering what Severus had said earlier, and Severus lifted his head, regarding Remus with lazy amusement. 

"Now? Probably the bedroom with a brief detour into the loo first. Tomorrow..." He shrugged and gazed at Remus with a shade of uncertainty in his eyes. "Do you want to remain here?" 

"Not necessarily." Remus caressed Severus' cheek with his clean hand, wanting to offer reassurance. "Where has home been for you lately?" 

"Brasov," Severus replied, and at Remus' questioning look, he added, "It's in the Carpathian Mountains. There is a high werewolf population in the area, so I've done quite well for myself just by brewing the Wolfsbane potion, although I have branched out into other difficult and rare brews as well." 

"I've always wanted to travel." Remus gazed up at Severus, his voice filled with calm certainty. "There is nothing and no one to keep me here, and I'm content to put this place behind me and return for the occasional visit, if that." 

"In that case, we can begin preparing for our departure tomorrow," Severus said, a heated gleam in his eyes as he pressed against Remus again, aligning their bodies with exquisite perfection. "That will entail packing up Roberta's clothes for disposal or donation and rebuilding Remus' wardrobe. Tonight, however, I believe we should dispense with clothing entirely." 

Remus assumed his answering moan would be more than enough to show his enthusiastic support for the idea.

* * *

 **Epilogue:**

Remus gazed at their faded reflections in the shop window: a man of average height and stocky build with wavy silver-white hair and blue eyes mirroring the contentment of the spirit behind them, and on his arm, a tall, leggy brunette with a slender, narrow-hipped and small-breasted figure in a chic black dress and a sheer blue-and-green patterned scarf around her long throat. 

"I told you the scarf would be a nice touch," Remus said, giving Severus a playful nudge. 

"Only for you would I wear such bright colors." Severus peered at his reflection and gave a delicate mock-shudder. 

"You look exquisite." Remus craned up to press a lingering kiss on Severus' cheek, heedless of his flawless make-up. "As always." 

"Flatterer." Severus' tone was haughty, but a tiny smile tugged at his thin lips. 

They were too well known in Brasov to risk indulging Severus' penchant since Severus had werewolf clients in both the Wizard and Muggle community. It was a treat they reserved for their holidays, and Severus packed nothing from his usual wardrobe, no matter where they went. 

It was Athens this time with a side trip to visit the Oracle of Delphi. Severus had been disgruntled when the Oracle saw through his disguise straight-away, but his annoyance had been mollified by the Oracle's pronouncement that they had a long life together ahead of them. 

"Well, I have to say nice things often enough to make certain you stay with me," Remus teased. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for the prophecy not coming true." 

Severus let out a most unladylike snort. "As if we needed an Oracle to tell us _that_ ," he said in a scathing tone. 

"It's nice to have confirmation." Remus smiled up at him and gave his arm a little squeeze. "But no, I didn't need the Oracle to tell me that my future is inextricably bound to yours. That's a given." 

"Even when I'm old and grey and need a girdle?" Severus asked, arching one eyebrow haughtily. 

"I'm already grey-"

" _Silver_." 

"Right, silver. And when you're old and grey, I'll still be lusting after you in your baggy granny dresses and girdles and support stockings." 

That actually coaxed a quiet chuckle out of Severus, which was a rare and precious occurrence, and Remus smiled as they turned away from the window and resumed their leisurely stroll. 

It was a good life, Remus thought as he glanced sidelong at Severus' familiar, beloved profile. It was so far removed from what he had once hoped his life would be like, but he had no doubt that the gods or Fate or whoever was in charge of this sort of thing knew exactly what they were doing after all.

-end-


End file.
